


Unfortunate Mistakes

by Sherlock1110, sherlockian4evr



Series: Consequences [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: A plethora of toys, Alternate Universe - BDSM, BDSM, Dom/sub, Dominance, Harsh, Heavy BDSM, M/M, Punishment, Strict, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:41:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26570827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/pseuds/sherlockian4evr
Summary: John throws out a critical experiment, earning himself punishment from his Dom, Sherlock.
Relationships: Greg Lestrade & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes & Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: Consequences [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1932574
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	Unfortunate Mistakes

**Author's Note:**

> Once again we are getting hate on our fics, if you don't like it DONT read it and we don't care to read your opinion telling us how shit our stories are. For the rest of you, I hope you enjoy!

Sherlock had left the flat a few hours ago without telling John where he was going. In his wake, he had left out an utterly vile experiment. John was angry. Very angry.

Pissed off, John began to bag up everything on the units, not caring what the original purposes had been. Just because it wasn't on the kitchen table didn't mean Sherlock should be leaving it lying about.

He felt immediately better once the bags were outside in the bins and headed back upstairs. He decided to make himself a cuppa. Sitting down, he sipped his tea and contemplated what Sherlock's reaction would be. On second thought, maybe it was better not to think about it, he should be grateful, he hated cleaning up after all.

Finally, the detective returned. He didn't stop at the living room but bounded upstairs. He stopped in his tracks, seeing that his lab was a mess, half his equipment was gone. He was at a loss for words for a few seconds. That experiment had been critical. It would have allowed him to solve a triple murder.

He dry washed his face and kicked out at the table leg. Mrs Hudson never went into the lab, and she was away anyway… that left John. He raced down the stairs and into the sitting room. The doctor was sitting back in the armchair with one leg crossed over the other. He smirked when he saw Sherlock. "Much tidier, don't you think?"

The detective glared at John. "Much tidier! John, that experiment was crucial. It was for a case!"

"Yeah yeah yeah, that's what you always say."

Sherlock took two long sides into the room.

"That triple murder at the weekend? That experiment was analysis on the poison! I'll never get another sample now, and the suspect will get off! All because you decided to throw your weight around because you're in a bad mood!" Sherlock's voice had started calm, but he was close to shouting now.

John still looked smug. Too smug.

"Strip, John. Now." His voice was low and dangerous, daring the doctor to ignore the order.

"Sherlock, lying to make me feel bad about stinking experiments will not make me want to get in bed with you."

Sherlock took a heavy breath, that sounded more like a huff. "John, I will say this just once more. Strip."

When the doctor didn't comply, he moved over, grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, and pulled him out of his chair and onto the floor.

"Sherlock-" the detective slapped him, cutting off his impending argument.

"You will not address me as Sherlock again, and if you cannot tell how mad I am right now, you must be playing stupid. Now get your fucking clothes off."

John, angry now himself, started to get up. "You complete arse. I can't believe you are acting like a toddler over that useless, stinking experiment. Have you any idea how far down the street you could smell that atrocity?"

Sherlock was seething, he reached out and snagged John by the scruff of the neck. He bent him double and pressed his foot to the back of his neck, keeping him down.

"Sherlock! Let me up this instant!" He tried unsuccessfully to get out from under the detective's foot.

Sherlock pressed harder, forcing him to grunt into the carpet. He slowly but surely started stripping the doctor's clothes off. "I have told you to take off your clothes several times. You have outrightly disobeyed my order. I told you to address me appropriately, and you have further defied me."

"That's because you're acting like a spoiled child! Now stop tearing at my clothes and get off me." John was livid. The experiment hadn't been for a case; he was sure of it. Sherlock was overreacting, as always.

Squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, Sherlock reached his hands back onto the sofa where he knew there were cuffs between the cushions.

"Give me your wrists. Now!" Sherlock barked.

"What? No!" John tucked his arms under himself. He wasn't about to be handcuffed for no reason. It was one thing when they were playing, but this was different.

"John, I highly recommend you obey me, or this situation will get worse very quickly."

Hearing something in the younger man's voice, John slowly brought his hands out from beneath him and settled them at the small of his back.

"About time. But you are still going to be punished for not obeying right away." Sherlock clicked the handcuffs shut around John's wrists.

The doctor just huffed. It was going to happen, no matter what. He tugged on the cuffs for a while until Sherlock returned his attention to removing his clothing.

"Why are you acting like this?" John asked, sounding perturbed.

"You know why. Don't be more of an idiot than you have to be." He removed the last of the doctor's clothing and threw it aside.

He hauled John up to his knees by his cuffed hands and paced around him. "If you continue to be a disrespectful, rude, and damn right obnoxious submissive it will be clear to me you have learnt nothing over the past several years. I had thought you were better than that."

"I am, but you are an enormous prat." It was over and beyond Sherlock's worst behaviour. It was ridiculous.

Sherlock ground his teeth. "You have no right to dictate what I say, do, or tell you to do. You are not the Dominant in this relationship, no matter your feelings on the situation, you will show. Some. Fucking. Respect."

"I'll respect you when you stop acting like a toddler."

"John," Sherlock said dangerously, "I suggest you stop talking. You are only earning yourself more punishment.

The doctor snapped his mouth shut. Even though he knew he was in the right, he also knew Sherlock meant business.

Sherlock straightened and shook his head slowly. "You are the most unbelievable bloody submissive I've ever had, and before you, there were plenty. Every time it feels like we make progress with our relationship…" he trailed off, pushing his hands into his pocket.

John didn't say anything, just glared at the floor. He still couldn't figure out Sherlock's problem. It wasn't the first time the doctor had thrown out one of his experiments.

Sherlock pushed his hand into John's hair and pulled his head back, exposing his throat. He looked down into his eyes, wondering what John might do. The blond just glared up at the detective, still not speaking.

"Who is the Dom in this relationship, and who is the sub?" Sherlock asked. He expected a quick response.

When he didn't get one, he reached to the table and snatched up the riding crop, letting it drop sharply on John's arse three times in quick succession.

"Fuck!" John had been completely caught off guard, and his head was reeling. He couldn't make sense of the whole situation.

"When I ask you a question, submissive, you bloody well give me an answer. Who is the Dom, and who is the sub?" He held the crop up ready.

"You are the Dom," John growled out. "And I'm the sub." He only answered because he didn't want things to escalate. They were bad enough already.

Sherlock's grip tightened in John's hair. "Try that again," he hissed.

John's pause this time wasn't as long, but it was long enough for the crop to come down again several times.

"You are the Dom! I am the sub!" The doctor shouted.

"Better." Sherlock ran the tip of the riding crop over John's back, a promise of more to come. "But still not good enough and you can damn well lose the attitude."

John sighed, heavily put upon only for his response to being interrupted by a phone call.

Sherlock's phone was loud in his pocket, and he growled when he saw who it was.

"Keep. Still," the detective hissed at his kneeling sub, taking a step back to answer the phone. "Lestrade?" There was a pause while Sherlock listened. "I don't have it… No, I didn't bloody well play with it. I did the tests I said I was going to… It got damaged before I could finish the experiment… I didn't tamper with the damn evidence, Lestrade, it was an accident!" Sherlock was tempted to hang up the phone, why was he getting the blame? "Yes I know it's been three days, it's not my fault the analysis took that long… I know you have to let him go… Give me 48 hours I'll take another look at the crime scene photographs, see if there's anything else." There was a long, drawn-out pause. "Yes, ok," he hung up after that and let his head fall back to face the ceiling.

John went very still, knowing he was fucked. That experiment had been for a case. Bowing his head, he waited for what would come next. He wouldn't make any objections. He had earned what was about to happen, all because he'd woken up in a shit mood.

Sherlock took several steps back until he was leant against the door.

"Sir-" John tried, but he didn't get the response he was expecting. Sherlock laughed.

"Oh, you mean, now you'll show me some fucking respect? Unbelievable."

"I didn't know," John said, a guilty expression on his face.

"It doesn't make a difference. You willingly went into the lab and destroyed my experiment. That just shows your lack of respect for me."

"Sherlock, it wasn't like that, it was-"

"Shut up," Sherlock hissed, breathing deeply. "I agreed to put the lab up there, out of the way. So I could do my experiments and keep the kitchen free of… harmful equipment, for you! Not because I enjoy the inconvenience of it!"

"But, Sherlock-"

The Dom stepped towards John. "Enough! Go to the bedroom. Now."

John knee walked towards the bedroom slowly. He knelt up beside the bed, feeling incredibly guilty. Even if the experiment had been nothing significant, he shouldn't have been up there in the first place.

When Sherlock eventually came in, he had ditched his jacket and had his arms folded.

"I am so angry and so disappointed with you, John," Sherlock said quietly. "Is this dynamic a mistake?"

"What? No, sir, no, it's not."

"I wonder." Sherlock shook his head. "What should I do with you?" he pondered out loud.

John swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Sir, I-" he tugged absently at the cuffs when Sherlock reached out and grabbed him by the throat.

"You're not going to like what's about to happen. And if I can't find anything else on the photos, you will be getting it worse."

John nodded as best he could. He knew Sherlock meant every word he said.

The detective squeezed John's throat tighter, cutting off his breath for a few moments, then he let go, shaking his head in disgust.

"You don't get to be submissive how and when you choose! You are submissive ALWAYS!"

John winced. "Sir-"

Sherlock talked over him. "I am going to make sure you remember that in the future. That is if you want to remain my sub."

"I do, of course, I do."

"Well. I warned you to be respectful. I had also given you the order to strip. You declined both and forced me to undress you. If you were currently clothed right now, would you remove them at my order?"

The sub bowed his head. "I- Yes, sir."

"Mm. Now you choose to be submissive. That's not good enough." He went and picked up a ball gag and brought it back. "Open."

With reluctance, John opened his mouth and let the other man buckle the gag around his head.

"We will be reading through our contract later tonight. Your behaviour today has been completely unacceptable."

The sub nodded his understanding. He'd have to be good. Very good. He didn't want their contract broken. It meant too much to him; if only he had thought of that earlier, he might not be in this mess. Yes, the lab had been a mess, but the smell hadn't been that bad. And Sherlock was right, it was upstairs, out the way.

"Over the bed. We will start with the crop."

Sherlock left to fetch the riding crop, sincerely hoping his sub would obey him even as he left the room.

John worked his way onto the bed as best he could with his hands cuffed. His arse was in the air, ready for what was about to happen. He waited where he was, feeling like he deserved what was to come.

"I wasn't expecting you to be in position," Sherlock said, entering the room again. He held the crop and waved it through the air experimentally.

The sound of the crop whistling through the air made John wince. He closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing. When the first blow fell, John huffed out a pained breath around the gag. It seemed Sherlock didn't care where it fell as it was straight on top of the previous strikes he'd had.

The doctor counted the strikes in his head as they fell. Somewhere along the way, he lost count. He struggled to keep still but was losing the battle.

"Roll over," Sherlock ordered, stretching his arm out.

Rolling over was tricky with his hands cuffed behind him, but he managed it, brushing sore skin against the bedsheets.

Sherlock trailed the tip of the crop over John's thighs, and then he moved it up to caress his bollocks.

John drooled around the gag as Sherlock reached up and tapped the ball with the end of the crop.

The sub's eyes opened wide, and he stared up at Sherlock. He saw not only anger there, but disappointment. He blinked dumbly and looked away. Before he knew it, Sherlock had brought the crop down on John's cock.

The doctor cried out around the gag. His cock was on fire. He squirmed, trying to move away.

"Disobeying me already? I suppose you lasted longer than I expected. Now. Keep. Still."

He brought the crop down on John's thighs once, twice, three times. "I won't stand for disobedience."

John felt tears well up in his eyes. Though he didn't know if it was because of the pain he was now in or the disappointment on Sherlock's face.

Sherlock tossed the crop aside, and it clattered to the floor. He grasped John's cock and twisted it hard. John held in his yell this time as he was trying his absolute hardest to make up his behaviour to his Dom.

"I should lock this up," Sherlock declared. "Maybe a few weeks in a cage would change your disposition."

John's eyes widened at that. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been in a cage. Not since the beginning of their contract.

Sherlock went and rummaged through their toy box until he found the cage. He brought it over and fastened it on, using a key to lock it in place.

John stared down at it, trying to roll the ball gag in his mouth. He let his head fall back as he stared at the ceiling in frustration.

"Seems your attitude didn't take long to return."

The sub shot him a glare. "We have to go back to the beginning with you." Sherlock twisted one of John's nipples, then went to fetch another toy.

Returning with several pegs, the Dom put them down on John's stomach. One by one, he placed them at random spots on John's body.

The doctor felt every peg as it bit into his flesh. The pegs didn't feel good now, they bloody hurt, but he knew it would be worse when they were pulled off.

John paused and took some deep breaths in through his nose. He had to remind himself that this was his fault. It wasn't just the experiment, but his subsequent behaviour. Why had he been so insubordinate?

"You're thinking incredibly loudly," Sherlock pointed out, flicking a few pegs that were in different areas.

Groaning, John closed his eyes and turned his head to the side.

"No, no, no. Look at me."

John glanced at his Dom for a split second then looked away.

"No, John, you look at me when I tell you to look at me." He slapped the sub's thigh. "I won't accept anything less."

John met Sherlock's eye again and managed to hold it this time. Sherlock reached down and gripped the subs caged cock. He fingered it through the gaps in the cage. "This is going to stay locked up for the time being. If you are fortunate, I'll take it off sooner rather than later."

At that, the doctor looked away.

Sherlock tutted. "You need to stop ducking away from me, John. Because hiding is never going to be the answer."

The doctor wished he could ask what would be the answer because he was at a loss. He inhaled sharply through his nose when Sherlock pulled a peg off.

Sherlock gripped him by the hair.

"When you were in the army. Did running away when you fucked up work for you?"

John's response was automatic. He shook his head no, pulling his hair in Sherlock's grip.

"Then don't make that mistake now." He pulled off another peg and tossed it aside.

"I'm not the only one who will catch heat for this stunt you've pulled. Lestrade will as well." Sherlock let go of John's hair and stepped back, taking a deep breath. "He had to jump through a lot of hoops to allow me to bring it home in the first place."

Sherlock turned and paced across the room and back, picking up the riding crop as he went, he needed to calm down a bit before he continued.

John watched as he paced the room, waving the crop in an arc as he went. Oh, what he wouldn't do to make this better right now.

With precision, the detective started flicking pegs. John grunted as each one fell off, leaving stinging pain in its wake. It took what felt like months for Sherlock to whack off all the pegs.

"You know, if you like this game, we can keep playing."

John grunted, shaking his head. He didn't want to keep playing the same game. Definitely not. But what he wanted didn't matter. Sherlock started replacing the pegs one by one.

"Don't worry, boy," Sherlock's hands went through John's hair roughly. "I've made sure to put them in a slightly different place. For maximum fun."

As far as the sub was concerned, there was nothing fun about the situation. Worse, he knew that Sherlock wasn't enjoying it either. If only he could be rid of the ball gag, he would apologise sincerely.

Sherlock glanced at his face and laughed. "We're a long way from you apologising and me even beginning to believe you." He gripped John's cock through the cage.

With his other hand, he grasped his boy's bollocks, fingers brushing against the pegs that were placed there, and squeezed.

John's whine made it around the gag, his eyes squeezing shut. It seemed that Sherlock had no plan with where this was going, everything he did was spontaneous, and it put him on edge.

That was precisely what Sherlock was aiming for. To that end, he let go with both hands and walked away. He went to the toys and went through them, one by one, making sure John saw each one.

John shut his eyes again. Sherlock was being ridiculous, even more so when he left all the toys on display and picked up his laptop. The Dom sat down in the chair in the corner and started going through emails, taking his time.

It made John feel even worse at being ignored. He was tempted to kick up a fuss but thought better of it.

Sherlock opened up the crime scene photos and sat back to examine them again. He glanced over at John, who was deliberately not looking at him.

"And people say I sulk," the detective muttered to himself.

John thought he had reason to sulk, all things considered. Yes, he had been incredibly stupid in his actions, but he didn't think he deserved to be ignored entirely.

Sherlock spent half an hour looking at the crime scene photos but found nothing else that would be useful. He closed the laptop with a thud and had to stop himself throwing it at the wardrobe.

John ached where the pegs remained on him. He daren't make a sound of protest as he knew from experience how close the laptop had come to flying across the room.

"I'm going to see if anything is salvageable upstairs. You're going to remove all the pegs and kneel in the middle of the sitting room." He snatched up a blindfold and tied it behind John's head, then removed the cuffs.

The sub breathed out a quiet sigh of relief. He stretched his arms, working out the threatening cramps before they could occur. It made him all the more aware of the pegs. He knew how Sherlock would react if he missed any so he would have to get rid of the pegs by touch alone.

John removed the pegs one by one. Each time he winced at the sharp pain it caused. When he was done, he realised he would have to figure out where the door from the bedroom was and then where the centre of the sitting room was. Removing the blindfold was out of the question.

Sherlock routed through everything that had been left upstairs and huffed. There was nothing useful.

"You will replace everything you threw away and everything you broke!" Sherlock snapped, marching into the front room.

John nodded, trying to convey his agreement. The ball gag was making his jaw sore. He pushed at it with his tongue, trying to get some relief.

Sherlock watched him and looked away, disgusted. He paced around the kneeling man to see if he had missed any of the pegs.

Fortunately, John had removed them all. They were piled haphazardly around him. The Dom nudged a couple this way and that with his foot. "Get these pegs cleared away."

John faltered. How was he supposed to do that? He couldn't see, John couldn't even work out where he was in the room, and the whole time he paused, Sherlock was tapping his foot.

Feeling around on the floor, the doctor found a few pegs. He picked them up intending to put them in their box. He thought he knew which way to go to get to it. He just hoped he was right.

Knee walking, John started in the direction he assumed the table was in. After going only a short distance, he bumped directly into Sherlock's legs.

Sherlock said nothing, merely huffed.

Fed up, John threw the handful of pegs he held and sat back on his heels.

The Dom ripped the blindfold off of his boy. "Is it so difficult?"

John nodded forcefully. He knew he had messed up, but the task had been ridiculous.

"Head down!" Sherlock barked, infuriated all over again. He took a deep breath and fetched the hook from their bedroom.

John's head was back up by the time he returned. He just sighed and forced him forward. It didn't take long to work the hook inside him, even with his thrashing and thrusting. When he was done, he joined it to his collar and then cuffed his hands behind him again.

"I'm going to take out the gag. You aren't going to speak to me. Instead, you will pick up all the pegs, with your teeth."

John worked his jaw muscles when the gag was removed, dissipating the ache in his jaw. When Sherlock kicked at a peg, the sub started moving. He paused when he reached the nearest peg.

"You cuffed me again!"

"Use. Your. Teeth."

With the hook in and his hands cuffed behind him, bending forward wasn't easy. He almost fell over trying to pick up the first peg, but he managed to get his mouth on it and picked it up.

"Put it on the table. Then get to the rest of them."

"Sir, this is-"

"Fun." Sherlock cut him off. "Fun for me, anyway. If you're lucky, this will take you long enough that I'll have calmed down after seeing the state of my lab."

John looked about at the pegs and sighed. It was going to take him forever to pick them all up. Soon, his knees were aching from moving about on the floor.

It was well over an hour before John was done. Sherlock had long since moved to the sofa, his feet propped up on the table.

The sub settled down to wait for further instructions. He hoped Sherlock was satisfied with his performance. He wasn't sure how much more he could take. At this point, it would be a relief to be sent to set the lab to rights.

"Expecting a thank you or a well done?" Sherlock asked, barely looking up to pay his sub any attention.

"No, sir," John whispered, frustration eating away at him. He had been hoping for some indication that his punishment was over, however. Now Sherlock looked up at that. He eyed him up and down a few times before smirking.

"You seriously think you've been punished enough? It wouldn't even have been enough yet if you'd only messed up my lab. Then there's that God damn appalling attitude I had to deal with this morning. The fact you thought I was lying to you. The fact you smashed up essential equipment that you knew was likely important. And most recently, you threw that lot," he jerked his head at the pile of pegs on the table. "Do you think that we're done?"

John ducked his head as he responded, "No, sir." It had been a foolish hope. He had known that. He simply hadn't been able to help himself. Shifting, John felt the hook move inside him. It was pressing in just the right place to make his cock leap in its confines.

The Dom pointed at the floor in front of him, impatiently waited for John to notice, and then move across the room.

"Run me a bath and then kneel in the corner of the bathroom," he ordered after he'd removed the cuffs. "And if I see you try and reach for your cock again…" he let the threat hand in the air. John hadn't even realised he'd been doing it.

The sub knee walked to the bathroom, where he turned on the water. He made sure it was the temperature Sherlock liked. Putting his hands determinedly behind his head, he took up his position in the corner.

It was a good 10 minutes before Sherlock appeared in the bathroom. He completely ignored John, stripped out of his suit and dressing gown and climbed into the bath.

After several minutes of waiting, John's posture started to sag. He had been under a lot of strain for quite some time. It was taking its toll. He was lucky Sherlock was paying him no attention because he didn't know how he would react to being yelled at right now.

Usually, Sherlock would have John wash his hair for him or bathe him in general, but he wasn't in the mood for that. He did it all himself, then let the water drain from the tub. As Sherlock got out and dried himself, he used his toe to nudge at the hook in John's arse. The sub yelped in surprise, the hook rubbing up against him.

The Dom hooked a finger through a loop on John's collar and tugged. "Come. You are going to dress me and then we'll see where this goes."

"Sir, this is-"

"Not another word."

"But-"

"Why are you still arguing with me?" Sherlock sighed heavily.

John knew he should keep quiet. He almost wished he had the ball gag back in so he wouldn't yell anything out. Almost. He couldn't help but crawl after his Dom, and he made sure to keep his mouth shut as Sherlock pulled clothes from the closet.

It appeared his Dom was dressing to leave the flat, whether now or later in the day was unclear.

At a look from Sherlock, John stood on wobbly legs, the anal hook tugging and causing his cock to try and fill out.

"I'm expecting Lestrade to show up," Sherlock said eyeing John. "You know, to check I haven't done anything untoward with the evidence he let me bring back."

John blanched. He dreaded seeing the DI's expression when he learned what had happened. Again, he asked himself how he could have been so stupid.

Sherlock watched the expressions flicker across John's face but ignored them. He smirked at the doctor's wince when he knelt to put Sherlock's socks on.

Once dressed, the detective headed for the sitting room. He called out behind himself, "I expect you to kneel quietly in the middle of the living room. You will not speak unless spoken to."

John swallowed, following slowly. This ordeal was going to be humiliating. He knelt in the middle of the room, his arse aching and his shoulders stiff. It was hours before Greg arrived. When he did, the sub bowed his head, unable to look at him.

The DI made a half turn in the doorway as if to retreat, but Sherlock called him in.

"You're not interrupting. We aren't in the middle of a scene. He's being punished."

Greg came into the room and pushed his hands into his pockets. "If you're sure-"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

"Of course you're sure," Greg sighed and glanced at John again. "He smashed the equipment. Didn't he, sir?"

"Excellent deduction. You are improving."

"Not really, sir. I can't think of anything else that would get him in so much trouble."

John blushed furiously. He was embarrassed that Greg had figured out what he had done so quickly.

"Did you get anything from the results I can use, sir? Or the photos?"

Sherlock sighed heavily. "Nothing extra from the photos. And the results, I did prove most of it, but I don't have it as evidence anymore, so I don't think it's going to be of use."

Though a sub himself, Greg couldn't help giving John a stern look. It seemed his fellow sub had well and truly earned his punishment.

"I'm half expecting you to demand proof."

Greg chuckled nervously. "Well… um, I think John's situation is proof enough, sir."

"Indeed. John, apologise to Greg. And make it good."

The DI looked alarmed at that. He'd never had a fellow sub apologise to him before, not in a situation like this.

Looking down, John said, "Greg, I-"

Sherlock interrupted him by clearing his throat. "Show Lestrade every respect."

"Yes, sir. DI Lestrade, I apologise for jeopardising your case by my actions."

Greg sighed. "You didn't jeopardise it, John, it's collapsed. Excuse me, sir," the DI nodded once at the Dom and then turned on his heel.

John felt even worse than he had before. He felt like he deserved another round of punishment after that. He'd never be able to make it up to either Greg or Sherlock.

"Back to the centre of the room, John," Sherlock ordered, going to the window and watching the DI get into the cop car by the kerb.

John obeyed, feeling wrung out. He waited as patiently as he could for his Dom's attention.

Sherlock turned from the window. He walked over and released the hook from the collar. As he removed it, he told John to get himself cleaned.

Surprised, John nodded once, "yes, sir."

He disappeared into the bathroom as fast as he could. When he was finished, he came back out, still wearing nothing.

"Put some clothes on. Don't forget. You have to go out and get replacement equipment for the lab."

John ducked his head. "Yes, sir." He got dressed as fast as he could. He reappeared clothed and waited until Sherlock looked at him. "Molly will know the best place to go to. I suggest you start at Bart's."

"Yes, sir," John nodded, slipping into his shoes and grabbing his coat.

When the door closed behind the doctor, Sherlock sunk into the armchair. He folded his hands beneath his chin, thinking. John had surely learnt his lesson. At least, he certainly hoped so.


End file.
